A Spy Among Us
by x.Shoeless.Doom.x
Summary: It's a race against time. Poison is spreading through one of the boys veins, and he has 48 hours until the poison kills him. It certainly isn't helping that one of their friends is a spy, reporting the brothers actions to a higher power.
1. Chapter 1: Joe

This isn't my first fanfic, but it will hopefully be the first one I actually finish. I usually do Harry Potter, but I kept losing the stories, so I decided I was jinxed. But anyways, I hope you enjoy!

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.

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You know those days when nothing goes your way?

Today was that day for me.

I was sitting here, bound to a chair, waiting for Frank to use those brains I knew he had and rescue me. Again.

This definitely wasn't the first time some psycho had kidnapped me to exact revenge on my dad. The famous private investigator, Fenton Hardy, had locked up his fair share of criminals and certainly made a large number of enemies. Enemies who believed he would suffer if his younger son was tortured or killed. In this case, it was both.

"Ah. I see the young Joseph Hardy has finally decided to stay quiet." I glanced up to see my kidnapper, Joshua Nonter, standing in front of me, a cruel smile on his face. He was one of the quietest people I've come to meet. He's visited me almost 20 times in the last few hours, and I haven't heard him come down those creaky stairs. Not once.

I had countered his silent movements with my loud and 'charming' voice. When he let it slip that I was being held in the basement of Pete's Fish and Chips, a downtown seafood restaurant, I yelled until I was hoarse. Unfortunately, no one came to see who was down here.

"Just resting my voice," I replied coolly. His smile faded, and he sent a swift punch to my jaw. Pain exploded in my head, and darkness clouded my vision. I waited until the pain dispersed, before glaring at him. I was lucky that was all he did. He had starved me, burned me, hit me, cut me, and even tried pouring acid on me. He discontinued the last one when I hit the bottle and knocked the acid on him.

"You will only speak when I tell you to," he declared, his eyes glinting maliciously. I eyed him nervously. He seemed different somehow. More confident. Earlier, he was skittish, glancing at the door every few seconds. I hoped I was just imagining his change.

"I received a phone call earlier. A friend of mine informed me that your brother is sending a rescue party tonight. It seems that they have found your whereabouts, and feel it is their duty to save you, despite the threats." At this point in his speech, he pulled a syringe out of his pocket. I eyed the few drops that were escaping the needle and falling to the floor.

"What's that?" I asked, not quite sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"This is a slow acting poison. I have not bothered to learn the name, but I do know as the poison flows through a person's blood vessels, it shuts down all organs and causes a considerable amount of pain. Your brother will be here soon. I will be arrested and you will go home." He leaned forward until his face was inches away. I winced at the smell of his breath. Garlic. Nasty stuff.

"It does not matter if I am put away in jail. All that matters is that my mission is fulfilled." As he was speaking, I saw the syringe move closer to my arm. To close for comfort.

"Get that thing away from me." I struggled against my bonds. I'd seen enough needles in my life. The hospital was my second home.

Joshua didn't say anything. Instead, he used one hand to keep my arm still and injected the poison. I couldn't feel it, but the sight was enough. I could almost feel the poison rushing through my veins. He smiled and removed both his hands.

"That wasn't so bad was it Joseph?" He asked, placing the syringe back in his pocket. "But I must warn you. If you tell anyone about the poison, I will know. I will not kill you though. I will kill your brother."

"You'll be in jail though," I snapped, surprised he hadn't thought if that.

"Idiot. I have friends on the outside." He rolled his eyes and began walking up the stairs. "You have 48 hours until the poison shuts down your heart and lungs." He reached the top up the stairs and opened the door. "With that, I bid you an adieu." He swung the door shut, leaving me in total darkness.

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You like? I decided to do it in first person. I've never written a story in this format, so if I accidentally switch to third in the middle of the story, please inform me. Thank you for reading.

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.


	2. Chapter 2: Frank

I am so sorry for not updating as soon as I had hoped. School just started and it's been hectic finishing reports and getting organized. But the first week had come and gone, and I think I'm doing well.

I received some wonderful reviews. Ok, so they just said the story was good so far, but that still is better than nothing at all right?

I realized I forgot the disclaimer in the first chapter. So here it is: I do not own the Hardy Boys, any of their friends, their parents, or anybody else you recognize from the series. Most villains and associates belong to me though.

That is the only disclaimer I'm going to put, although it applies to all my chapters. I'm just too scatterbrained to remember to put it on all chapters.

And now the story!

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.

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I was going to kill my brother.

That is, if the kidnappers didn't already beat me to it.

I was supposed to be on a date with Callie. I had promised to go with her to dinner with her months ago. We were both looking forward to it, but Joe just had to get himself kidnapped on the day of the date. This was so typical of him.

I was in a small town right outside of Bayport. Although the town far from any major bodies of water, it was easy to see the town lived for seafood. In every window of every home was a statue of some sea animal. To my left there was a Seafood Shack, to my right, a Shells Seafood, and Pete's Fish and Chips was up ahead.

I knew Joe was in one of these. I had no clue which one, but I knew it was one of them.

About an hour ago, I had received a phone call. The man on the other end told me that he had Joe and would not relinquish him from captivity unless he was dead. It had taken only seconds to trace the call to here. Finding out that he was probably in a seafood restaurant was a little trickier, but not too difficult. I merely listened to the background noise. Luckily, someone had been complaining loudly about the menu, which contained only seafood and no hamburgers.

I had already checked in the Seafood Shack and Shells Seafood. The only thing left was the Pete's Fish and Chips. Either he would be in there, or I totally messed up. I was praying it wasn't the latter one.

Walking through the door, I hesitated, taking in the cool air. Although I kept a cool expression, I felt like jumping up and down and praising God for air conditioner. The décor of this restaurant was similar to the others. Plastic fish, pictures of people fishing, and fishing poles lined the wall. Nets were attached to the ceilings, with fake fish captured within. A waitress, about 25 or so, walked by me. She had a blonde ponytail and was carrying a large stack a plates. I politely stepped in front of her and opened my mouth to speak.

"If you want to talk to the manager, go to the back of the building and go through the dark blue door. Complaints are handled as quickly as possible." She spoke robotically, as if she had given this small speech many times. I thanked her and headed to the back. There were three doors along the back wall. A dark blue one, a flaming red one, and a vivid purple one. I pushed open the blue door and entered.

Inside was obviously the secretary's office. A large desk was against the left wall. Sitting behind it was a woman, probably about 28 with cotton candy pink hair. She seemed familiar somehow. I didn't think I had met her personally, but I knew I had seen her somewhere. If only I could remember where. It would bother me til I knew.

"I need to talk to the manager," I said, in a firm voice. I stood up straight, trying to make myself look professional. She glanced up at me, before waving to a small red chair next to her desk. She picked up the phone and spoke in a bored voice. "There's a customer here to see you sir." Instantly, a door the same color as the wallpaper, swung open.

"Hello," boomed a voice so loud, I almost fell out of my chair. The man who stepped out was a tall, young man. He was dressed in a finely made suit, making him look like a candidate for the Top 10 Richest People Contest. "I am Samuel Jefferson. What can I do for you?"

I stood up and reached into my pocket. The man's eyebrows rose as I flashed a police badge. Actually, it wasn't real. It was a plastic badge from a cereal box. It was Joe's idea to always carry it, since you never knew when you had to get into restricted areas. If flashed fast enough, the badge looks authentic.

"There have been reports of smells coming from your basement. Witnesses say it smells similar to Marijuana. Usually, we would ignore small reports like this, but rules say that actions must be taken after a certain number of complaints." I was pleased with coming up with that excuse. It was better than the one he had used at the other restaurants. Reports of smoking mice didn't go over to well.

"Well, I assure you nothing of that kind is happening here. So if you'll be so kind, the exit is behind you." His eyes were narrowed and his voice sounded slightly threatening. Apparently, he didn't use that voice often, since the secretary was looking at him strangely. I looked at him with what I hoped was a cool expression.

"I have to look. If I don't, you will be arrested for obstruction of justice. Merely a glance will work." I shrugged. He thought about it for a moment, before sighing.

"You seem liked a reasonable man." He placed an arm around my shoulder and steered me to the door. We walked out the door and he chose the vivid purple one. We were halfway down the extremely long hallway when he spoke.

"Although I am not participating in drugs, I am not totally honest. You can't see it by my restaurant, but I am a very wealthy man. So after you see what's in my basement, name a price that will keep your mouth shut." He kept his voice light, as if we were talking about kittens being cute. It was slightly disturbing.

"I'll think about it," I replied. I wanted to sound distant, like I was considering his offer, but also trying to keep my job. It was harder to act like a cop than I though. His smile said he accepted my answer for now.

We reached a dark brown door. I wondered what was up with the colored doors, but I pushed that thought away as Samuel opened the door. At first, all he could see was a steep set of stairs through the gloom. I hesitated, waiting for my eyes adjust to the darkness. I gasped slightly as I saw a blonde-headed figure, battered and bruised, tied to a chair at the bottom of the stairs.

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- Shells Seafood is a real restaurant. This is the disclaimer for it. I don't own it

Like the chapter? I do. That's because I wrote it though. I'm supposed to like what I write. Why would I post it if I didn't?

If you notice any typos or anything grammatically wrong, inform me right away. Email me, PM me, or post it in a review. I check them all.

The third chapter should be up real soon. It's labor day weekend so I have an extra day to work on this. Plus, we just installed DSL last night, so that certainly helps.

Thank you all for reading!

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.


	3. Chapter 3: Joe

Whoa. Sorry it took so long. I've been really distracted. Hopefully, I'm gonna update my next few chapters much sooner. Don't hold your breath though. You may die.

By the way, if you're one of those people that refuse to read stories because there are cuss words in it, then I'd advise you to quit reading this now.

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.

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The world was spinning. My head was throbbing, and pain was coursing through me. I briefly wondered why he called this potion slow-acting. The pain began pretty quickly.

Something was different. I realized I had been so focused on the pain, I hadn't noticed the voices. Both of them were familiar. One I had been hoping to hear since I was put in this hellhole. The other had been my keeper, leaving me locked in this hellhole I raised my head, smiling weakly as I heard Frank's voice. I'm just about to call out, saying something about how much I'm glad to see him, when he says something that makes my blood run cold.

"Who is he?"

Those three little words stopped everything. The pain I was feeling, the relief, even time itself. Why did my brother not know who I was? I knew it was him. There was no doubt in my mind. Yet, he was questioning who I was. I felt fear rush through me. Fear, hurt, and then anger. How dare he betray me like this. I spend hours sitting in this room, pain shooting through me, waiting for his arrival, just so that he could ask who I was? I think not. As time began moving again, I opened my mouth and began to yell.

"What do you mean 'who is he'? You know damn well who I am!" I struggled against my bonds, wanting so bad to punch him full in the face. He looked at me, annoyance written all over his face. My anger withered, replaced by confusion. I stared at him, as if the answers to life would materialize in front of me.

"His name is not important. All that is important now is what will keep you quiet." Samuel smiled, placing a hand on Frank's back and pushing him out of the room. I noticed Frank's hand behind his back, frantically twisting into odd shapes. It took me a minute to realize he was using sign language. I squinted my eyes and tried to focus.

B-R-B W-I-T D-A-D

What? Oh. It took me a minute, trying to focus solely on what he had signed and not the pain, but I figured it out. He said he'd be back with dad. I wondered briefly why Frank had questioned who I was, but my relief pushed the thought away. Frank was coming to save me!

About time.

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I know it's short, but there's only so much you can write about when your character is in a basement. To make up for this one being so short, I'm posting my next chapter along with this one.

Thank you for your patience people!

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.


	4. Chapter 4: Frank

If you're still reading this, I applaud your patience. Even I would have given up reading this story by now. You people must really like my stories.

I feel loved.

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.

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I felt really bad.

I had left Joe in the basement of a restaurant owned by a psychopath. Only a psychopath would have this color scheme in his business.

It was easy to see that Samuel had done something to Joe. His face was pale and it looked like he was in pain, judging from the small jerks. I forced a smile and pulled out my wallet. I could see Samuel watching me intently, but I calmly pulled out a small white card and held it out to him.

"This is my card. Call me if there's anything you need." I accompanied this statement with a wink. He took the card, a broad grin on his face. 

"So I presume that there's no problem with my restaurant." At my nod, he continued. "Good. I'll accompany you to the door." He placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me passed the door, into the cool January air. Without turning around, I strode to the van and got in. I drove down the street, pulling into the parking lot of a BP. Dragging out my cell phone, I dialed Dad and told him where Joe was.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes," was his reply. I assumed he meant, 'The police will be there in 10 minutes. I'll just follow them.' I pulled off my black wig and popped out the blue contacts in my eyes. It was amazing how these two things could change my appearance completely. I leaned back in the seat and watched as cars passed.

**10 Minutes Later**

The sound of a police siren woke me from my daydream. I blinked a couple of times, slowly coming to terms with reality. It took me another minute, but I realized that the sirens I was hearing belonged to the cops who were going to rescue my brother. I started the engine and sped down the road, back towards the restaurant. By the time I had parked the van, Samuel was already handcuffed and was being pushed towards a police car. When he saw me, he merely smiled. That smile sent shivers down my smile.

"I should have known you would turn me in," he stated in a calm voice when I was closer. "No matter. I did my job." The police officer holding him rolled his eyes and pushed him into the car. I furrowed my brow and quickened my pace. Within seconds, I was through the basement door, down the stairs, and untying Joe from the chair. He fell forward and sat on his hands and knees for a moment, before looking up at me and giving me a small smile. I bent down and hugged him, grateful he was still alive.

"Hey Frank," he croaked, pushing me back and looking at me. "You look like hell." I laughed. I hadn't gotten any sleep during the three days he was gone. I also hadn't eaten anything other than an orange, two crackers, and a Snickers.

"You think I look like hell? Brother, you look like you've been through a blender." I used my thumb to try and wipe off a smudge on his cheek, almost instinctively. He swatted my hand away and winced, as if in pain. I grabbed him and pulled him up.

"Come on. You're going to the hospital." To my surprise, he struggled fiercely. I shifted my grip and pinned his arms behind him. "Stop struggling Joe," I ordered. He had never been this opposed to a hospital. He always protested, but he never tried anything physical. I let out a yelp as he snapped his head back and hitting me straight in the nose. My grip on him loosened and he was instantly on the other side of the room, breathing hard. "What the hell, Joe? Why won't you let me take you to the hospital?" I now noticed the burns and cuts on his arms, and a large portion of his skin looked like it had been totally burned off, and not by a cigarette. "You need to get those treated." I took a step towards him. He back up and snapped, "I'm fine." I stared at him, trying to figure out what I could say to convince him to let me take him to the hospital.

"What going on here?" I glanced up at the basement door to see my father. "Frank, why aren't you taking Joe to the hospital? And why is your nose bleeding?" I hadn't realized it was. I touched my upper lip and felt the sticky liquid. Using my sleeve, I wiped at the blood.

"It's nothing Dad. Just a misunderstanding." I knew that as soon as either him or mom saw his arms, they would take him to the hospital. I was slightly surprised that Dad hadn't noticed the injuries yet, but then I saw that Joe had rolled down his sleeves, covering them. Dad raised his eyes, but said nothing, instead walking over to Joe and hugging him.

"Good to have you back son." Keeping one arm on Joe's shoulder, he helped him up the stairs and out the door. I followed, watching as Joe stumbled frequently. Dad stopped outside the restaurant. "Frank, take Joe home and get him cleaned up. I have some business to attend to. Tell your mother I'll be home by dinner." He got into his car and drove off. I watched him leave, wondering what could be so important that he would barely spend any time with his son who's been gone for three days. Brushing off the thought, I helped Joe to the van and climbed in. I was pretty sure we both knew it was going to be a long ride.

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You like? You better. Just kidding. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Except for you in the blue shirt. Yes I'm talking to you. You cannot have an opinion. I will not allow it.

Until next chapter.

.x.Shoeless.Doom.x.


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